Friday, August 26, 2011
Listening as Spiritual Hospitality
To listen is very hard, because it asks of us so much interior stability that we no longer need to prove ourselves by speeches, arguments, statements, or declarations. True listeners no longer have an inner need to make their presence known. They are free to receive, to welcome, to accept.
Listening is much more than allowing another to talk while waiting for a chance to respond. Listening is paying full attention to others and welcoming them into our very beings. The beauty of listening is that, those who are listened to start feeling accepted, start taking their words more seriously and discovering their own true selves. Listening is a form of spiritual hospitality by which you invite strangers to become friends, to get to know their inner selves more fully, and even to dare to be silent with you.
Henri Nouwen
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
New Crossroads Message
Here is the link to my most recent (August) message on Romans 12 at Crossroads: http://www.crossroadswichita.com/romans-12-adam-monaghan/.
Romans 12:9-21
Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.
Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary:
“If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
Romans 12:9-21
Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.
Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. On the contrary:
“If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Grizzly Marathon Weekend in Choteau, Montana
Sarah and I finished our awesome two week vacation with one final stop before driving home: Choteau, MT. This small town in northwest Montana, only about 100 miles south of the border, had great small town pride and very warm and friendly hospitality. We arrived mid afternoon and checked into our cheap, simple, but very professional motel, only a block from the race start/finish.
The 10K started at 6:30pm on Friday night. I was pre-registered but Sarah decided to register on the spot and run it as well. Her running shoes had given out the week prior at Lake Louise on one of our hikes and caused bad heel blisters. We asked at packet pickup if they had any shoes for sell or anything like that. One of the volunteers said she was the same shoe size as Sarah and went home and brought back four pairs for her to try one, saying she could wear any of them for the race and one of the pairs in particular she could buy from her if she wanted because she had only worn them once and didn't like how they fit. Sarah wore those shoes, the Aasics Nimbus 13, for the 10K. She loved them. We researched online and found they they run about $130 new so we offered her $75 and instead she bargained and only accepted $50 from us. What a great deal and what nice people in Choteau! And boy do women know how to do some backwards bargaining!
The 10K was a very interesting course though it was an out and back. It was definitely the hardest 10K I have ever run. The slowest 10K I've ever run by far. The only time I've ever had to walk in a 10K (mile 1.5 through the 3.1 is a long, steep, gnarly hill into a gailforce headwind). But also the highest I've ever placed in a 10K (5th overall, 4th male). I ran a negative split by about 3.5 minutes with the tailwind and definitely felt the altitude and difference in dry mountain air on hydration even at the 10K distance. Sarah finished strong also running a negative split. She stopped in the second mile to help a little boy who was crying and make sure he was alright and then carried on to face the wind and hill. She ran the second half without stopping and finished really strong feeling good. I was able to pace her in the last mile.
Saturday morning was the marathon. The buses to the start line left promptly at 4:00 am which made for an early start to the day. The buses took us out to the middle of nowhere at the base of the mountains on country dirt roads. Thankfully we were able to stay in the bus until just before the race start as it was cold outside - around 50 degrees. The 6:00am start sent us off on the most scenic of any road marathon I have ever run. Great mountains, foothills, and bluff vistas along the course. There were plenty of hills to walk and plenty of downhills to fly down on. My goal basically was to take it easy, have fun, and finish under 4 hours. I had fun running with some marathoners going for 50 states and hearing their different stories. I was holding together quite nicely until nausea started setting in around mile 22 or so. It was getting hot - probably nearing 80 which isn't that bad but my body still wasn't 100% from the weekend before. The biggest thing was just my quads were still sore from the previous Saturday's Canadian Death Race. I had to calculate and strategize quite carefully the last couple miles to subside the nausea (hydration, ginger, etc) and still finish under 4 hours, which I did in 3:59:28. I returned to the motel where, feeling miserable, I threw up. But that's pretty much the end of the story because I quickly felt better after a little nap in the car on the way home and some lunch.
This marathon (apparently in it's final of 10 years) was very professional, very organized and a very classy event. I was especially impressed with the locals from Choteau who shared stories with me about what it was like to live there and have Grizzly Bears come up to their front doors and to live through the long, cold winters. Another state in the bag. Only 35 to go! :)
Results from Grizzly Marathon Races: http://www.grizzlymarathon.com/2011_Grizzly_Results.html
The 10K started at 6:30pm on Friday night. I was pre-registered but Sarah decided to register on the spot and run it as well. Her running shoes had given out the week prior at Lake Louise on one of our hikes and caused bad heel blisters. We asked at packet pickup if they had any shoes for sell or anything like that. One of the volunteers said she was the same shoe size as Sarah and went home and brought back four pairs for her to try one, saying she could wear any of them for the race and one of the pairs in particular she could buy from her if she wanted because she had only worn them once and didn't like how they fit. Sarah wore those shoes, the Aasics Nimbus 13, for the 10K. She loved them. We researched online and found they they run about $130 new so we offered her $75 and instead she bargained and only accepted $50 from us. What a great deal and what nice people in Choteau! And boy do women know how to do some backwards bargaining!
The 10K was a very interesting course though it was an out and back. It was definitely the hardest 10K I have ever run. The slowest 10K I've ever run by far. The only time I've ever had to walk in a 10K (mile 1.5 through the 3.1 is a long, steep, gnarly hill into a gailforce headwind). But also the highest I've ever placed in a 10K (5th overall, 4th male). I ran a negative split by about 3.5 minutes with the tailwind and definitely felt the altitude and difference in dry mountain air on hydration even at the 10K distance. Sarah finished strong also running a negative split. She stopped in the second mile to help a little boy who was crying and make sure he was alright and then carried on to face the wind and hill. She ran the second half without stopping and finished really strong feeling good. I was able to pace her in the last mile.
Saturday morning was the marathon. The buses to the start line left promptly at 4:00 am which made for an early start to the day. The buses took us out to the middle of nowhere at the base of the mountains on country dirt roads. Thankfully we were able to stay in the bus until just before the race start as it was cold outside - around 50 degrees. The 6:00am start sent us off on the most scenic of any road marathon I have ever run. Great mountains, foothills, and bluff vistas along the course. There were plenty of hills to walk and plenty of downhills to fly down on. My goal basically was to take it easy, have fun, and finish under 4 hours. I had fun running with some marathoners going for 50 states and hearing their different stories. I was holding together quite nicely until nausea started setting in around mile 22 or so. It was getting hot - probably nearing 80 which isn't that bad but my body still wasn't 100% from the weekend before. The biggest thing was just my quads were still sore from the previous Saturday's Canadian Death Race. I had to calculate and strategize quite carefully the last couple miles to subside the nausea (hydration, ginger, etc) and still finish under 4 hours, which I did in 3:59:28. I returned to the motel where, feeling miserable, I threw up. But that's pretty much the end of the story because I quickly felt better after a little nap in the car on the way home and some lunch.
This marathon (apparently in it's final of 10 years) was very professional, very organized and a very classy event. I was especially impressed with the locals from Choteau who shared stories with me about what it was like to live there and have Grizzly Bears come up to their front doors and to live through the long, cold winters. Another state in the bag. Only 35 to go! :)
Results from Grizzly Marathon Races: http://www.grizzlymarathon.com/2011_Grizzly_Results.html
Crossroads Message Posted Online
My July 17th message at Crossroads Friends Church on Philippians 2 has been posted online at our church's website: http://www.crossroadswichita.com/blog/sermons/.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Banff Day 3 - Of Camp Fires and Recreational Hikes
Our camp stove broke on Day 2 of camping at Banff, so we decided to go all out rustic and build a real fire to cook all of our meals. The fire was really inviting since it was pretty cold (close to freezing every night) so we spent some time by the fire just reading and journaling. I was really proud of everything that was cooked on the wood fire and our best meal was hot roast beef and cheese bagel sandwiches! We did a little hiking in the afternoon but, overall, this was a pretty recreational day.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Canadian Death Race
Canadian Death Race
Grande Cache, Alberta, Canada
Who really wants to report and share the story on a DNF (did not finish)? It’s not exactly as fun and interesting to read as a successful and exciting finish. I tell the story here of my experience with the Canadian Death Race probably mostly as a journal for myself of the experience…to see what I can learn from it. And, for record keeping, as I inevitably look back and perhaps one day try a rematch.
I hadn’t ever even heard of this race until this February when I was looking for races to run while on our two week vacation up north to Montana. Once I found it I entered into the lottery as the solo entrant slots were already filled. This was mid-February. The website said the results of the lottery would be announced ‘soon’. A month went by and then two and then three and I was really getting anxious and desperate to know whether I had got in or not so we could make the rest of our vacation plans and reservations, etc. Finally on May 21st I received the email that I was accepted. I was both relieved and scared.
From what I could gather online, the Canadian Death Race was a 125K trail race with three mountain summits with a 24 hour cutoff. I learned that there was only 17,000 feet of elevation gain/loss over the course and that the highest mountain was just under 7,000 feet. How hard could it be!?! While I know that I have never had any running success in the mountains always seeming to suffering from altitude sickness, etc., I figured with it “only” being 77 miles and with 24 hours cut off and with it only being 7K feet high at the highest elevation that surely I’d be fine.
Grande Cache, Alberta is stunningly beautiful. The town reminds me a lot of Leadville, Colorado with mountains all around. Since there were no hotels left within hours of Grande Cache for the Death Race weekend we camped (probably what we would’ve done anyway though) for free in Tent City with hundreds of others. Tent City is a large open field within walking distance from the race headquarters and the start/finish. Friday night’s pasta meal was really good and we talked to lots of first time attempters, the majority of them were from Alberta. But a lot of them had attended the training camp. At the pre-race meeting they said that the finish rate each year averages to about 33%. Crap, I thought, that reminds me of Leadville.
Race morning was cold, like every morning during our time in Canada, even though it starts getting light well before 5 am. It was probably in the upper 30s. I had my oatmeal and coffee and was way more confident than I guess I should have been and wrote down projected aid station finish times for Sarah who was crewing for me through the whole race.
Leg 1: Start through the first 19K (11.8 miles)
The first mile at the most is just getting out of town, just like Leadville, into the “bush”. I found it funny that people kept calling it the bush instead of the trail but they were right it was the “bush”. I found a previously successful finisher who seemed to be friendly and talkative and tried to hang with him. Once we got into the bush I lost him in the crowds and actually never saw him again. The terrain in the first leg is advertised as the second easiest terrain which is true, but it was still not easy to get a running rhythm. It was all mud, all wet, and not really a trail at all but just bushwhacked bog/swamp/brush terrain around the face of a mountain. There were some ups and downs but no big deal in this section. I tried to be conservative and smart and finished right on my target pace with 11 minute miles. It was fun and there were no problems at all. I came through the check-in zone and met Sarah and quickly got re-geared up for Leg 2 with a dry shirt, and my supplies for two mountain summits (rain jacket, gloves, etc).
Leg 2: 27K (16.7 miles) Two Mountain Summits
Leg 2 is the second longest and second hardest (debatable depending on fresh legs), but for sure the most technical section. It is 27K (16.7 miles) and this section alone has over 5,000 feet of elevation change. The course takes you up Flood Mountain first on double track trails which are fairly mild. I felt fine going up, walking/power-hiking the inclines and running anywhere I found relatively flat sections. When you can tell you are getting closer to the top, the course suddenly veers off the more reasonable trail and re-enters bushwhack territory and just literally, without any exaggeration, goes straight up to the top. This last section was about a mile of climbing straight up, holding onto trees and bushes to make it to the top. Finally when I got there and checked in; I then started my descent. One mountain down two to go. I was feeling great.
The descent starts down the same kind of double track trail as we were originally coming up on, but then after a few minutes takes a sudden turn down. This section is called the “Slugfest” and had lots of signs about not whining. You know the three climbs in the Bluff Loop at Rockin’ K that are really kind of hard but are pretty short? Well, this went down those for, I’d guess, about a mile and a half. A lot of it was called the “Bum Slide” section where the only safe option was literally to slide down on your butt through the dirt or worse yet mud. There really was no other option. At the bottom you go through the worse prolonged swamp section I had ever seen. Every step was a battle to keep your shoes on and make forward progress. I passed one poor guy who lost his shoe and I don’t know if he ever found it? Finally I came through the end of it and then the trail made me head back up. Straight up. No switchbacks, no real trail, just bushwhacked straight up the mountain several kilometers. This was ruthless and intimidating because it was hard, yes, and so slow. You just wonder if you’ll ever make it in time at this pace. Finally you reach a more real dirt mountain road and you continue the steep incline up Grande Mountain. Not too far from the top is the first emergency aid station. I refilled with water and grabbed some supplies. The hardest thing was just to keep moving fast enough for the mosquitoes not to bother you. If ever your pace slowed too much, you could hear the swarm of mosquitoes narrowing in on you. Thankfully the sun went behind the clouds at this point and it cooled off. But the closer I got to the summit, the colder it got and the more the wind blew, so on went the wind breaker and gloves and hat.
I checked in at the top and then started the descent. Two summits down only one to go. I was still feeling surprisingly well. Everyone who had done it before was really dreading the next downhill section called the Power Lines. I love downhill running so I was excited to let gravity do its thing and get to the end of Leg 2. While I still preferred it to climbing, this was absolutely relentless. Way, way steeper and more treacherous than the Power Line section at Leadville but I guess kind of the same idea. I think it was about 5K+ of descent, so steep at times you have to revert to the bum slide. This faced the sunny side of the mountain so everything was dry and loose. I ran hard yet still tried to be smart. I just kept going and going and going, thinking that it would never end. Finally, I saw Grande Cache getting closer and closer and I knew I was almost there. From the bottom of the Power Line section, you have probably a mile and a half, uphill, of course, into Grande Cache to the start/finish area which doubles as the end of Leg 2. Now after what I had just experienced, I was getting overwhelmed a bit, but still felt fine. I told Sarah that my running legs were fine but I was just getting psyched out by all the technical terrain. I was also starting to feel nauseous even after several ginger chews and continued good hydration. I needed a really good Leg 3 both for the mental confidence and for to make the strict cutoff of 7:00 pm to start Leg 4. I left Leg 2, cumulative mileage of 28.5, and time of 7 hours and 52 minutes (3:52 pm).
Leg 3: 19K (11.8 miles)
Leg 3 is definitely the easiest terrain and tied for the second shortest leg at 11.8 miles. After climbing a bunch of rock scrambles and literally running along-side the city dump (good grief, Death Race!), it finally started this wonderfully comfortable descent of around 1,000 feet running along this beautiful river. I flew through this whole section, getting all of my confidence back and excitement that I was going to finish. You finally come to the end of the descent and cross the highway and then have a mile and half climb up to the aid station. The cutoff there is 7pm and I left at 6:50 pm. I hate racing against cutoffs like that but I was definitely still in the middle of the pack.
Leg 4: The Beginning of the End
I had run 40.3 miles and was really feeling great (relatively speaking) and confident about everything but this next section which was a 3,500 foot climb up Mt. Hamel over 6 miles. I had until 10:00 pm (later I found out I mis-remembered and it was actually 10:15) to reach the almost top. Of course when I left the aid station it started to rain and the next section (about 6K or so) is called the Hamel Assault. It is just ruthless. It is a double-track “trail” of mud and rocks that is just so steep, with no relenting. This is where I began to lose it. I don’t really know why or how it happened. My pace slowed considerably, which is normal, but I realized I was starting to get passed by everyone and there was nothing I could do about it. My stomach was upset and my head was spinning. I tried to keep drinking and taking electrolytes. I had to sit down a couple times to get my heart rate down. After what seemed like forever, I finally came out of the trees and onto a coal-mining road up the rest of the mountain. By this time it was raining steadily and it was much colder and because of my pace, I was considerably colder. I had my rain jacket, gloves and hat on. I continued to climb and as I did the nausea continued to worsen.
Eventually I vomited on the side of the road with a half-dozen other runners watching, this brought me to my knees as I continued to dry-heave. I got back up very weak and very unstable and continued trying to walk up road as it curved around the mountain towards the summit. I stopped to dry-heave several more times. I have experienced this downward spiral before at Leadville and honestly don’t know exactly what to do about it in the future and how to prepare, train, and respond to it in the future. As the course sweepers (on 4-wheelers) caught up with me barely moving, they said I only had 2k to the check-in and it was 9:30pm and I was determined to keep going. I knew I still had running legs when the terrain would straighten out. The further up I went, the sicker and weaker and wetter and colder I got. I was shaking and wobbling quite a bit. Someone had given me a thermal blanket (one of those reflective space blankets) just in case as they passed me while I was puking. This eventually came in really handy. I got it out and wrapped up my legs in it as I continued going up. I realized that one of the items that I need to add to my running arsenal is a pair of rain-proof leggings.
I wasn’t the last one out there but the course sweeps were checking in on me regularly and I just wasn’t making enough progress. I had lost all of my hydration and energy and everything really and the more I shook the more I worried about hypothermia. I kept thinking that even if I did make the cutoff which was now very doubtful, I doubted I was in any condition to continue on and make any further cutoffs especially as darkness was going to set in around 11pm and the cold rain continued.
Eventually I gave up, I guess you could say, but it didn’t really feel like it as I was hardly moving at all and was in really bad shape. Humiliated, but relieved, they took me in the 4-wheeler to a coal mining truck (only coal mining vehicles are allowed on these roads, so they partner with The Death Race) with four other drop-outers and we started downhill. In just this short section I had to have the driver stop twice to throw up again. We stopped at the coal mine office headquarters, which served as a sort of evacuation exchange zone. The driver went up for more ‘bodies’ and another driver took us the long trip down the coal mining road to the highway at the bottom where a death race official shuttled us into town and to my tent where I met up with Sarah who was sleeping. It rained all night long as I slept until just after the 8am cutoff.
The Aftermath
Anyone who has DNF’d at a big race like this knows the feeling and the second guessing and the mental anguish that goes on for a couple days. I tried to keep it to a minimum so as to continue on with a very fun vacation and I believe I did so for the most part. I still have a lot of learning, research, listening, experimenting, and training to do to ever be ready for anything like this (comparing it to Leadville, of course, where I am still eager to have a finish some year). I am open to any and all suggestions and recommendations and feedback.
Turns out the finishers rate was 36% this year but from studying the results it seems that where I dropped it was approximately better than 50%. Results are posted here: http://www.canadiandeathrace.com/ir/rpt_05_ResultsSolo.pdf. All in all I did about 45-ish miles in 13.5 hours. I figured I would never have the opportunity to attempt the Canadian Death Race again as it is 2,300 miles from Wichita and very expensive both to get there and to enter in the race. But after a few days I even started to think, well, maybe I could find a way… :)
For those still interested in running this race…check out: http://www.canadiandeathrace.com/.
Grande Cache, Alberta, Canada
Cold at starting line!
The starting line
My wonderful crew, Sarah. She said it was a wild and crazy day and prefers the trail races in Kansas with less than 100 people to this crazy event!
I hadn’t ever even heard of this race until this February when I was looking for races to run while on our two week vacation up north to Montana. Once I found it I entered into the lottery as the solo entrant slots were already filled. This was mid-February. The website said the results of the lottery would be announced ‘soon’. A month went by and then two and then three and I was really getting anxious and desperate to know whether I had got in or not so we could make the rest of our vacation plans and reservations, etc. Finally on May 21st I received the email that I was accepted. I was both relieved and scared.
From what I could gather online, the Canadian Death Race was a 125K trail race with three mountain summits with a 24 hour cutoff. I learned that there was only 17,000 feet of elevation gain/loss over the course and that the highest mountain was just under 7,000 feet. How hard could it be!?! While I know that I have never had any running success in the mountains always seeming to suffering from altitude sickness, etc., I figured with it “only” being 77 miles and with 24 hours cut off and with it only being 7K feet high at the highest elevation that surely I’d be fine.
Grande Cache, Alberta is stunningly beautiful. The town reminds me a lot of Leadville, Colorado with mountains all around. Since there were no hotels left within hours of Grande Cache for the Death Race weekend we camped (probably what we would’ve done anyway though) for free in Tent City with hundreds of others. Tent City is a large open field within walking distance from the race headquarters and the start/finish. Friday night’s pasta meal was really good and we talked to lots of first time attempters, the majority of them were from Alberta. But a lot of them had attended the training camp. At the pre-race meeting they said that the finish rate each year averages to about 33%. Crap, I thought, that reminds me of Leadville.
Race morning was cold, like every morning during our time in Canada, even though it starts getting light well before 5 am. It was probably in the upper 30s. I had my oatmeal and coffee and was way more confident than I guess I should have been and wrote down projected aid station finish times for Sarah who was crewing for me through the whole race.
Leg 1: Start through the first 19K (11.8 miles)
The first mile at the most is just getting out of town, just like Leadville, into the “bush”. I found it funny that people kept calling it the bush instead of the trail but they were right it was the “bush”. I found a previously successful finisher who seemed to be friendly and talkative and tried to hang with him. Once we got into the bush I lost him in the crowds and actually never saw him again. The terrain in the first leg is advertised as the second easiest terrain which is true, but it was still not easy to get a running rhythm. It was all mud, all wet, and not really a trail at all but just bushwhacked bog/swamp/brush terrain around the face of a mountain. There were some ups and downs but no big deal in this section. I tried to be conservative and smart and finished right on my target pace with 11 minute miles. It was fun and there were no problems at all. I came through the check-in zone and met Sarah and quickly got re-geared up for Leg 2 with a dry shirt, and my supplies for two mountain summits (rain jacket, gloves, etc).
Leg 2: 27K (16.7 miles) Two Mountain Summits
Leg 2 is the second longest and second hardest (debatable depending on fresh legs), but for sure the most technical section. It is 27K (16.7 miles) and this section alone has over 5,000 feet of elevation change. The course takes you up Flood Mountain first on double track trails which are fairly mild. I felt fine going up, walking/power-hiking the inclines and running anywhere I found relatively flat sections. When you can tell you are getting closer to the top, the course suddenly veers off the more reasonable trail and re-enters bushwhack territory and just literally, without any exaggeration, goes straight up to the top. This last section was about a mile of climbing straight up, holding onto trees and bushes to make it to the top. Finally when I got there and checked in; I then started my descent. One mountain down two to go. I was feeling great.
The descent starts down the same kind of double track trail as we were originally coming up on, but then after a few minutes takes a sudden turn down. This section is called the “Slugfest” and had lots of signs about not whining. You know the three climbs in the Bluff Loop at Rockin’ K that are really kind of hard but are pretty short? Well, this went down those for, I’d guess, about a mile and a half. A lot of it was called the “Bum Slide” section where the only safe option was literally to slide down on your butt through the dirt or worse yet mud. There really was no other option. At the bottom you go through the worse prolonged swamp section I had ever seen. Every step was a battle to keep your shoes on and make forward progress. I passed one poor guy who lost his shoe and I don’t know if he ever found it? Finally I came through the end of it and then the trail made me head back up. Straight up. No switchbacks, no real trail, just bushwhacked straight up the mountain several kilometers. This was ruthless and intimidating because it was hard, yes, and so slow. You just wonder if you’ll ever make it in time at this pace. Finally you reach a more real dirt mountain road and you continue the steep incline up Grande Mountain. Not too far from the top is the first emergency aid station. I refilled with water and grabbed some supplies. The hardest thing was just to keep moving fast enough for the mosquitoes not to bother you. If ever your pace slowed too much, you could hear the swarm of mosquitoes narrowing in on you. Thankfully the sun went behind the clouds at this point and it cooled off. But the closer I got to the summit, the colder it got and the more the wind blew, so on went the wind breaker and gloves and hat.
I checked in at the top and then started the descent. Two summits down only one to go. I was still feeling surprisingly well. Everyone who had done it before was really dreading the next downhill section called the Power Lines. I love downhill running so I was excited to let gravity do its thing and get to the end of Leg 2. While I still preferred it to climbing, this was absolutely relentless. Way, way steeper and more treacherous than the Power Line section at Leadville but I guess kind of the same idea. I think it was about 5K+ of descent, so steep at times you have to revert to the bum slide. This faced the sunny side of the mountain so everything was dry and loose. I ran hard yet still tried to be smart. I just kept going and going and going, thinking that it would never end. Finally, I saw Grande Cache getting closer and closer and I knew I was almost there. From the bottom of the Power Line section, you have probably a mile and a half, uphill, of course, into Grande Cache to the start/finish area which doubles as the end of Leg 2. Now after what I had just experienced, I was getting overwhelmed a bit, but still felt fine. I told Sarah that my running legs were fine but I was just getting psyched out by all the technical terrain. I was also starting to feel nauseous even after several ginger chews and continued good hydration. I needed a really good Leg 3 both for the mental confidence and for to make the strict cutoff of 7:00 pm to start Leg 4. I left Leg 2, cumulative mileage of 28.5, and time of 7 hours and 52 minutes (3:52 pm).
Leg 3: 19K (11.8 miles)
Leg 3 is definitely the easiest terrain and tied for the second shortest leg at 11.8 miles. After climbing a bunch of rock scrambles and literally running along-side the city dump (good grief, Death Race!), it finally started this wonderfully comfortable descent of around 1,000 feet running along this beautiful river. I flew through this whole section, getting all of my confidence back and excitement that I was going to finish. You finally come to the end of the descent and cross the highway and then have a mile and half climb up to the aid station. The cutoff there is 7pm and I left at 6:50 pm. I hate racing against cutoffs like that but I was definitely still in the middle of the pack.
Leg 4: The Beginning of the End
I had run 40.3 miles and was really feeling great (relatively speaking) and confident about everything but this next section which was a 3,500 foot climb up Mt. Hamel over 6 miles. I had until 10:00 pm (later I found out I mis-remembered and it was actually 10:15) to reach the almost top. Of course when I left the aid station it started to rain and the next section (about 6K or so) is called the Hamel Assault. It is just ruthless. It is a double-track “trail” of mud and rocks that is just so steep, with no relenting. This is where I began to lose it. I don’t really know why or how it happened. My pace slowed considerably, which is normal, but I realized I was starting to get passed by everyone and there was nothing I could do about it. My stomach was upset and my head was spinning. I tried to keep drinking and taking electrolytes. I had to sit down a couple times to get my heart rate down. After what seemed like forever, I finally came out of the trees and onto a coal-mining road up the rest of the mountain. By this time it was raining steadily and it was much colder and because of my pace, I was considerably colder. I had my rain jacket, gloves and hat on. I continued to climb and as I did the nausea continued to worsen.
Eventually I vomited on the side of the road with a half-dozen other runners watching, this brought me to my knees as I continued to dry-heave. I got back up very weak and very unstable and continued trying to walk up road as it curved around the mountain towards the summit. I stopped to dry-heave several more times. I have experienced this downward spiral before at Leadville and honestly don’t know exactly what to do about it in the future and how to prepare, train, and respond to it in the future. As the course sweepers (on 4-wheelers) caught up with me barely moving, they said I only had 2k to the check-in and it was 9:30pm and I was determined to keep going. I knew I still had running legs when the terrain would straighten out. The further up I went, the sicker and weaker and wetter and colder I got. I was shaking and wobbling quite a bit. Someone had given me a thermal blanket (one of those reflective space blankets) just in case as they passed me while I was puking. This eventually came in really handy. I got it out and wrapped up my legs in it as I continued going up. I realized that one of the items that I need to add to my running arsenal is a pair of rain-proof leggings.
I wasn’t the last one out there but the course sweeps were checking in on me regularly and I just wasn’t making enough progress. I had lost all of my hydration and energy and everything really and the more I shook the more I worried about hypothermia. I kept thinking that even if I did make the cutoff which was now very doubtful, I doubted I was in any condition to continue on and make any further cutoffs especially as darkness was going to set in around 11pm and the cold rain continued.
Eventually I gave up, I guess you could say, but it didn’t really feel like it as I was hardly moving at all and was in really bad shape. Humiliated, but relieved, they took me in the 4-wheeler to a coal mining truck (only coal mining vehicles are allowed on these roads, so they partner with The Death Race) with four other drop-outers and we started downhill. In just this short section I had to have the driver stop twice to throw up again. We stopped at the coal mine office headquarters, which served as a sort of evacuation exchange zone. The driver went up for more ‘bodies’ and another driver took us the long trip down the coal mining road to the highway at the bottom where a death race official shuttled us into town and to my tent where I met up with Sarah who was sleeping. It rained all night long as I slept until just after the 8am cutoff.
The Aftermath
Anyone who has DNF’d at a big race like this knows the feeling and the second guessing and the mental anguish that goes on for a couple days. I tried to keep it to a minimum so as to continue on with a very fun vacation and I believe I did so for the most part. I still have a lot of learning, research, listening, experimenting, and training to do to ever be ready for anything like this (comparing it to Leadville, of course, where I am still eager to have a finish some year). I am open to any and all suggestions and recommendations and feedback.
Turns out the finishers rate was 36% this year but from studying the results it seems that where I dropped it was approximately better than 50%. Results are posted here: http://www.canadiandeathrace.com/ir/rpt_05_ResultsSolo.pdf. All in all I did about 45-ish miles in 13.5 hours. I figured I would never have the opportunity to attempt the Canadian Death Race again as it is 2,300 miles from Wichita and very expensive both to get there and to enter in the race. But after a few days I even started to think, well, maybe I could find a way… :)
For those still interested in running this race…check out: http://www.canadiandeathrace.com/.
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